It’s good to see people happy in their work.
On a recent trip to the Mackintosh rainwear production unit near Glasgow I was reminded how much pride craftspeople take in their labours, and how for some fortunate folk a “job” is more of a vocation than just a means to earn a wage.
To watch the small team – eight men and two women – go about the task of creating that quintessential British garment, the rubberised cotton mac, is as inspirational as it is interesting. The techniques used are pretty much unchanged for more than a century and if the whole process appears simple, that is merely a reflection of the expertise they bring to what is literally a hands-on operation.
The secret ingredient in the construction of the iconic Mackintosh is the rubber solution, a gluey porridge that is used to secure the cotton tape that binds the seams of the garment together. Put simply, a genuine Mackintosh is stuck together – by hand. That is its specialty and why you need skilled people to craft it consistently, time after time.
The cloth is, essentially, always the same – a thin layer of rubber sandwiched between two layers of cotton. This is, to all intents and purposes, the same fabric that Scottish chemist Charles Macintosh (1766-1843) invented in 1824. Somewhere along the way, the classic raincoat that employed his innovative weatherproofing technology was named after him – with a k added for some unknown reason.
Macintosh’s patent for the cementing of two thicknesses of cloth together with natural rubber was the performance fabric of the Victorian era (although, amazingly enough, he developed it more than a decade before the young queen took the throne in 1837).
The biggest difference today is the stability, flexibility and weight of the fabric. Old Mackintoshes are remembered for their solidity, their stiffness and the fact they could, it seemed, be stood up in the corner of a room to dry off.
Today’s versions are much more refined. The mini-factory in Coatbridge, just to the south of Glasgow, uses qualities from the coated fabric specialist Fothergill Group in Lancashire or from Japan. The two layers of cotton are bonded together with rubber that is dyed to perfectly match the outer layers so there is no show-through. A long Mackintosh mac today weighs only around 114g or just under 3lb in weight.
The larger pieces of the garment are sewn together by machinists Trish and Linda, who also sew in labels, add buttons and attach other trims, but the main construction of the garments is undertaken by four coat makers – Nicky, Brian, David and Hammy – who are literally dab hands with the rubber solution. All have been with the company for more than 20 years.
This sticky gunge is applied, remarkably enough, with a finger. Brushes, spatulas and glue guns have all been tried over the decades, but the label in a Mackintosh that states “Genuine Handmade” is perfectly accurate.
A blob of glue on the finger is smeared onto the piece of cloth and is left to become tacky. When the craftsman decides the time is right – it’s all done by eye and experience, not a timer – the other piece of cloth or tape is put on the gluey strip and the pair are pressed together using a small roller, comprising a small metal wheel at the end of a handle.
Most of the seams are straight but the same technique is used on the curve of the armholes. Here a lump of wood that looks like a milliner’s block is used to give the maker the right contour to press against.
Once the pieces are glued together the seams are made totally waterproof with a water-resistant tape that is also adhered by hand. The mackintosh.com website has some excellent imagery of this remarkable, labour-intensive process.
You can judge the reputation of a brand by the company it keeps. On a rail at the Mackintosh unit some examples of recent collaborations are to be found – names ranging from quintessential British designer Margaret Howell to Cecilie Bahnsen from Denmark, Jil Sander from Germany, American-Italian brand 1017 ALYX 9SM, the US outdoor specialist Aether Apparel and Maison Margiela, where designer John Galliano (only slightly) reworked the classic Mackintosh equestrian riding coat.
On a worktable at the unit, prototypes for the next collab for autumn-winter 2025 were laid out for further work. The goggles in the hood on a Mackintosh mac immediately identified this as a project with CP Company, the Italian innovator of outerwear.
It was a privilege for me to see the Mackintosh production process close up. It is easy to understand why the classic Mackintosh raincoat retails for around £1,000 – not cheap, but you get what you pay for. (And much less than the price tags on raincoats from brands like Tom Ford, Burberry, Loro Piana etc on Mr Porter).
I very much enjoyed meeting factory manager Scott and cutting room manager Rob, who joined the firm a few weeks apart in August and September 1981, back when the company was called Traditional Weatherwear. Even their length of service was eclipsed by Bobby, who has racked up 48 years with the company. Once a coat maker, he is now semi-retired but still handles the all-important final inspection and despatch to customers and stockists around the world.
I got exactly what Bobby meant when he told me making a genuine Mackintosh was a craft, not a production line.
The team in Coatbridge (completed by pattern maker Stuart) are delighted that their garments once again carry a label stating “Mackintosh. Made in Scotland”. For a few years production was moved from its traditional base to Nelson, Lancashire and, strange to relate, the team travelled down for a few days a week and stayed in an hotel while completing their shifts.
Happily, since December 2023 the Japanese fashion group Yagi Tsusho, the Japanese distributor that acquired Mackintosh in 2007, relocated production back to Charles Macintosh’s homeland.
Less happily, the group has announced the closure of the Nelson factory, where 60 employees make high-quality outerwear by more conventional methods. It gave as the main reason “increasingly challenging conditions” following Brexit and rising costs that have made British manufacturing “untenable”. The Nelson products will be made in the future by the company’s various European suppliers.
Reading about the closure of this highly-efficient and well-regarded factory, I was reminded of our inept former prime minister on 22 May, standing in a downpour in Downing Street to announce he was calling a general election for 4 July.
“Hasn’t he heard of Mackintosh?” I thought to myself as I saw Rishi get rained on.
Sadly, I heard nothing from any of our political parties during the six-week campaign about improving the chances of other British manufacturers to avoid the fate of the Nelson factory. I noted, however, that the Brexit-supporting Tory MP for Pendle and Clitheroe, which includes Nelson, lost his seat to the Labour candidate in the election.
We cannot rely just on the skill and passion of people like my new friends at Mackintosh to give UK manufacturing a secure future. The sector needs recognition and consistent support from the new government. Let’s see if it does anything to make British textile, clothing and footwear factory employees feel secure as well as happy.
